The Temperance in the Bones
by LMRaven
Summary: B & B have to investigate a murder where the victim looks eerily like Bones. As more bodies show up the team realizes something really sinister is going on and maybe Bones was an intended target afterall.  set during S6.  No Hannah
1. Chapter 1

A/N – Storyline takes place sometime during season 6. There never was a Hannah.

This is my first foray into "Bones" fanfiction after watching it since it began and being a reader of several "Bone's" fan fiction stories. I do not claim to have any forensic anthropological or medical knowledge and forgive me if my storyline may seem a bit far-fetched and pieces of it have been borrowed from another work of fiction, Karen Rose's "Die For Me".

Disclaimer: "Bones" is the property of Fox and it's writers. I do not own "Bones" or any of it's characters.

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Dr. Temperance "Bones" Brennan pulled on her latex gloves and gingerly kneeled down next to the body using her eyes first as her preliminary tool of examination. She spoke with confidence into the small recorder she always carried with her. As a forensic anthropologist, she was used to seeing death in many forms and not much disturbed her enough to get past the cold mask she slid on over her interior vulnerability that she let very few be privy to. For some reason, she could not name, this time it was different.

"Stage of decomposition suggests the victim has been dead for forty eight to seventy two hours. Female, late twenties, early thirties, hard to distinguish exactly due to… " Her confident voice did a rare stumble. "due to multiple stab wounds to the face, some of them done post-mortem."

Booth shot her a sharp look from he was standing with the other officers as they went over the evidence left behind. It wasn't like her to falter like this. She looked up at him and awarded him a brief albeit tense close-lipped smile of reassurance and got up wiping dirt off her pants. "Have the body and the ground around it packed and brought to the Jeffersonian."

"You heard the lady." Booth told the others in the room. "Wrap it up." He motioned with his hands as he walked over to where Bones stood and gently grasped her elbow. "Hey, are you okay?"

She was taken aback by his question and looked almost offended that he asked. "Yes, of course. I can just get a more conclusive examination done back at the lab."

Booth let it go but no way did he believe she was as unaffected as she tried to lead him to believe. "Okay then. Let's go see what the squint squad can come up with."

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Cam frowned at first glance of the woman. "There isn't much left of her face, is there? Angela, can you see of you can do a facial reconstruction. I'd like to get an ID on this woman as soon as possible.

Angela gave a grimace. "I'll see what I can do."

"Well, this is disturbing." Cam noted as she examined the lower portion of the woman's torso removing the tattered skirt the victim wore and placing it carefully into a plastic bag. "It seems that…" her eyes widened and for the first time in years since her career as pathologist began, she gagged and turned away.

"Cam?" both Angela and Brennan asked, their eyes moving to the portion on the victim's body that seemed to disturb their boss.

"Oh, God." Angela cried out covering her mouth and running away with tears brimming in her eyes.

Brennan looked more closely at the damage that had been done. "Something very large appears to have been inserted in her vagina causing the pelvic bones to be stretched and broken. I can only estimate without cutting into the body that severe damage may have been done to her intestines."

Cam regained some of her composure. "Since some of her intestines are leaking out of her…" she cleared her throat. "I would have to say your assessment is correct, Dr. Brennan."

They looked at each other in silence, both disturbed at their findings when Dr. Hodgin's sauntered into the room.

"So, I hear you have a body. Any particulates for me yet?" He stopped in his tracks when he saw the pale faces of the two women. Wondering what would cause them to look so shaken, he looked towards the body. "Wow. I haven't seen anything like this since college."

"You are familiar with this type of injury, Dr. Hodgins?" Cam questioned in disbelief.

He looked sheepishly at her. "Not personally, no. But I took a class in medieval torture once…total fluff class…easy 'A'…you know how it is."

"Dr. Hodgins, you're rambling." Brennan informed him.

He sank back on his heels. "Right. Uh…it's been awhile but I would say our girl here was given what was known as the pear of anguish torture. It's a device that is placed in an..uh…orifice of the accused. It consisted of four leaves that slowly separated from each other as the torturer turned the screw at the top. It was the torturer's decision to simply tear the skin or expand the "pear" to its maximum and mutilate the victim. In this case I would say that mutilation was the decision."

"What a horrible way to die." Brennan uttered.

"It's murder, Bones. It usually is." Booth said as he swiped his security card and stepped onto the platform. "So, do we have a cause of death yet?" he asked almost cheerfully as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation to drive head long into the case.

"It seems so." Brennan looked at him, her blue eyes searing him with their saddened expression. "Our murderer has a liking for medieval torture devices."

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Towards the end of the day, Temperance sat in her office typing up her notes so far on the case, which wasn't much. She recovered somewhat from her initial shock and was trying to be as back to business as usual but it was proving difficult.

There was a hesitant knock on the open door of her office. She looked up and saw Angela paused in the doorway.

"Hey, sweetie." Angela said softly, venturing in the room. "I'm feeling a bit peckish." She placed her hand lovingly over her slight baby bump. "And I thought since it has been a while since we had some girl time that we could go out to eat."

Tempe pushed back in her chair and stood up, her expression softening as she looked at her best friend. "You don't need to coddle me, Angela. I'm perfectly fine."

"I know you are, hon. But it _has _been a long time."

"I know it has and normally I would say yes but it just so happens I have a date tonight." Temperance admitted with a smile.

"A date?" Angela was surprised. She wondered if her friend's partner knew about this. Odds were, if he did, he wouldn't like it one bit. She knew Booth had been secretly in love with Tempe for a long time. She also knew that regardless of her friend's denial to admit it, Temperance felt the same way about her partner. "Does Booth know?"

"Does Booth know what?" The subject of their conversation entered Brennan's office.

"That I have a date." Brennan said looking at him with a smirk.

"A date? Bones, that's great. He's a lucky guy." Booth's eyes twinkled.

"Wait a minute." Angela looked back and forth at the two of them in confusion. "What is going on here? Booth why aren't you being your usual over protective self?"

"Relax Angela. Booth knows him." Temperance tried to settle her friend's agitation.

"And you approve?" she asked Booth, placing her hands on her hips. She didn't like this new development at all. Tempe and Booth were supposed to be together. He wasn't supposed to be happy she was dating someone else.

"Sure I do. I've known him for a long time. You ready to leave Bones? I'll walk you to your car."

"Just let me grab my things" she replied.

Angela rolled her eyes and walked out of Brennan's office in a huff. This would not do at all, she thought. There had to be some way she could make them see how right they were for each other.

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She carefully extracted herself from under her lover's possessive arm and slid out from underneath the silken sheets careful not to awaken him from his slumber. Slipping on her red kimono robe that she picked up on one of her many travels, she padded quietly out of the bedroom, silently closing the door behind her.

It was 4am and Dr. Temperance Brennan could not sleep. By all rights, she should have been able to given the enthusiasm of the lovemaking she had been more than a willing participant of not too long ago. It was the case she supposed. Normally she didn't let cases have this much of an impact but the details were so horrific, the death so torturous and the victim, when Angela did her magic, looked so much like herself with just a few minor differences.

Each time Brennan closed her eyes, she saw herself as the body, so devoid of life laid out on the impersonal cold metal slab at the Jeffersonian as her colleagues meticulously picked and prodded her remains looking for clues about her untimely death. She would never tell Booth how much it affected her. He would get even more alpha male protective than he already was. Ever since he saw the picture on the "Angelator" he had been a constant at her side. Tempe smirked, not that she minded.

It was time for a little ice cream therapy, she thought as she reached into the freezer and pulled out her pint of chocolate chip mint that she always kept on hand for just this sort of occasion. Not even bothering with the bowl, Temperance dug into the carton with relish, licking the spoon like a lollipop as she sat at the kitchen table thumbing through the newest anthropology journal she just received.

"Couldn't sleep?" Booth questioned under a yawn, startling her from her reverie. He sat down across from her, wrapped in her blue sheet. Grasping her arm and pulling it towards him, he took a lick of the ice cream on the spoon. "Mmm," He paused for a few beats, appraising her, noting the tense edge to her sleep deprived eyes. "Okay, what's wrong?" He asked.

"Wrong? Why does anything have to be wrong?" she asked innocently.

"Because it's.." he glanced at the clock on the microwave. "4 in the morning and you're' eating ice cream instead of being in bed with me." His expression reminded her so much like Parker when he had time limits placed on how long he was allowed to play his video games, she wanted to smile.

"I needed sustenance. To coin your phrase, you wear me in."

"That's _out_, Bones. You wear me _out_." He wore a self satisfied grin. "I did, didn't I?"

"You don't have to look so proud of yourself." She muttered, placing another glob of the cold confection into her mouth.

"If it's about the case…" he started, going back to the previous conversation.

She shook her head. "It's not." She lied.

He knew she was not telling him the truth. The ever unflappable Dr. Temperance Brennan was shaken. Hell, since he saw the image that could have been _her_ in all of it's 3D glory, he was _still_ reeling. He could still recall the moment he first saw it with horrifying clarity.

_Flashback_

_He was walking towards Angela's office. Cam had called him to meet all the squints in there. They had a face of the victim. The image of the victim's mutilated face was rotating._

"_Brace yourselves…" Angela warned with a scowl and pressed a few buttons. "Here is our victim."_

_Booth entered the office just as the gruesome image morphed into a full face…a very familiar face._

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa…what the hell is _that_?" He asked wide-eyed in near panic as the image halted him in his tracks._

"That_ is our victim." Cam replied. She seemed to be a little unnerved herself._

"_But..but it looks like…" Booth stammered still unable to believe his eyes._

"_Me" Temperance supplied bluntly when she saw he was having trouble forming the words._

_End Flashback_

He had wanted to go over to her and wrap his arms around her so badly at that point…not that she looked like she needed the comfort but _he _did. Their relationship had yet to be "outed" and had he done that, it would have been a complete give-away.

"It's okay to be freaked out about it, Tempe. I know I was." He tried to soothe.

"I'm not "freaked out"" She said air quoting the words. "I will admit that at first glance of the vic…" She couldn't make herself use the word "victim" not when the woman looked so much like her. "uh woman, she appears to resemble me_. However_," she emphasized the word. "Upon closer inspection, it was clearly evident that any similarity to me is purely superficial. The spacial elements of her features differ from mine by centimeters, her …"

"Tempe" Booth interrupted but she continued with a near pleading look to her cerulean blue eyes.

"Her orbital bones closer together, her nasal bones a bit wider than what the surrounding cartilage would suggest it should be…"

"Bones"

She squeezed her eyes shut forcing herself to see the exact details of the victims face in her mind. "the inferior labial branch of facial artery considerably thinner , the zygomatic bones are lower than mine…" Her chin started to quiver just the tiniest bit.

"Stop. Please." He implored as he got up and pulled her off her chair, smoothing his hands down her arms. Booth knew she was trying to lose herself in her science. Half of what she said made no sense to him but the tone and cadence of her voice told him all that he needed to know; she was more upset than she would lead him to believe.

"But why, Booth?" She looked up at him, her brows furrowed in confusion. "I am attempting to explain…"

He silenced her with a tender kiss. Booth knew what she was attempting to explain and why. He just didn't know if she was doing it to ease his fears or her own; probably both.

"I know Bones, I know." He whispered to her when his lips left hers, resting his forehead against her own.

"Cam will do the DNA tests and they'll come back as a negative match to me."

He knew that too. It was his gut that told him so, that same gut instinct that Bones had so often mocked but had also come to rely on even if she found other logical more scientific ways to explain it. It didn't change anything though because no matter what the DNA tests proved or disproved, the fact still remained that the dead woman in the lab looked too much like Tempe to be a coincidence and neither he nor the squints believed in coincidences.

"Come back to bed, Tempe. We'll figure this out in the morning."

Grimly she nodded as he took her hand and led her back into bed but she knew as soon as she closed her eyes again, the images she saw wouldn't be of the nameless woman, it would be of herself. She cursed herself inwardly for her own illogical emotions.

Booth's arm wrapped about her shoulders as she curled into him, resting her head on his bare chest. His fingers skated lightly on her arm trying to soothe her but he knew even in her silence, her mind was working overtime.

Tempe's breath hitched suddenly causing Booth to turn to her concerned. He took on her widened eyes and knew that some genius realization hit her.

"I don't know why I didn't see it before." She looked up at him a grin slowly spreading across her face. "Booth, I know why she looks like me."

"That's great Bones." His grin matched hers "…are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?"

She sat up, the sheet falling around her waist. "It had been concerning me that her underlying facial bones did not match completely with the tissue on top of it. It's so simple and yet none of us saw it. The victim had her face physically altered to transform her features into an almost exact imitation of mine."

It was Booth's turn to sit up, only he was not relieved. "Are you saying she had plastic surgery to look like you?"

Brennan looked at her bed partner, confused. "Isn't that what I just said? I thought I was clear."

If that was the case, Booth thought and in most likelihood it was, than there was a good chance, a very good chance that the victim of the horrendous crime may not have been the intended target at all. The target could have very well been the beloved woman sitting beside him. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around her just then to assure himself that she was safe with him, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

"Booth?" she asked questioningly. "The sudden increase in your heart rate suggests that you are not as relieved as I."

"Because I am not."

She nodded in understanding. "You are worried that perhaps I was the intended victim."

"Bingo."

"But until we know exactly who she was, there is no evidence to suggest that. You shouldn't…"

"Jump to conclusions, I know." He said scrubbing a hand over his face. "Just promise me, one thing Bones."

"What?"

"Promise me that when I am not with you, that you'll be extra careful."

"I always am." She answered confidently.

"_Please_… just promise me." He replied back knowing full well that wasn't always the case. There were too many times in the past when she had been so close to death because she was too certain of her own abilities to protect herself and it terrified him.

"I promise." She said looking at him directly into his brown eyes before her lips descended on his.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- Thanks for the reviews so far. They are always appreciated. Sorry for the very long chapter. Truth be told I couldn't stop writing. I hope it holds your interest.

I don't own "Bones"

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_Angela Montenegro's Office_

"Okay. On your recommendation, I took the x ray of the skull and inserted the correct markers. I believe we now have the "real" face of our victim." Angela said proudly and more than relieved that the new face, which admittedly bore some resemblance to her best friend, now did not hold even nearly the same eerie likeness it once held.

The image of the skull x-ray transformed into a face of a young pretty woman in her early thirties.

"That's great Ange." Booth told her, his own relief evident in his voice and body language. "Now we need a name."

"I can try to match her with the DC Department of Motor Vehicles database." She suggested.

"It's a start. Hopefully we'll get a hit. I want to put this baby to bed. Have you seen Tem…uh Bones?" He asked her.

"She's with the new intern on the platform." She told him as she scanned her image into the computer.

"Thanks." As he turned to leave she stopped him.

"Booth. Are you really not upset about Bren's date last night?"

He turned back around to face her, looking uncomfortable. "No. Should I be?"

Angela frowned. "Well I just thought since we all came back…that you…that she…" at his quizzical expression she stopped. "Oh, never mind." She waved her hand in shooshing motion. "Just go find Bren."

He gave her a full-toothed grin. "I heard that forgetfulness was a side effect of pregnancy." He teased her and laughed as she threw a book at him and it hit the door frame and not him on his way out.

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_Jeffersonian Medical Platform_

"So it wasn't the pear thing that killed her." Milo Jenkins, the new intern questioned with a face of obvious distaste as he followed Dr. Brennan around the body, nearly skidding to a halt in his wheelchair as she stopped suddenly to turn her direct gaze on him.

"The correct term is Pear of Anguish and no, it wasn't the cause of death although she probably would have died from the damage it did eventually."

"What about the slashes to the face?"

"Given the fact that the deepest of stabs wounds were inflicted post-mortem, the mere slashes that were inflicted pre-death were not sufficient enough to kill her."

"So what did, then?" Milo asked curiously.

"That is what we are going to find out, Mr. Jenkins. I need you to do a thorough cleaning of the bones so we are able to detect any significant damage elsewhere. Do you think you can handle that?" She asked him.

The intern gave her a hard look. "My leg may be disabled, Dr. Brennan. That does not mean my brain is."

Temperance was taken aback by the censure in the new intern's tone. "No, of course not. I never meant to imply it was." She explained, flustered. "I only meant that it can be a daunting task if one isn't used to handling the bodies of those that died recently as I am sure being a student of older bones, you are not."

Milo's face turned red and apologetic. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Dr. Brennan. I am just so used to people questioning my abilities. For a moment, I thought…"

"It's alright. Mr. Jenkins. I have been told that sometimes my forthright manner of speaking can often get me into trouble."

"Now who would say a thing like that, Bones?" Booth said with a grin as he walked onto the platform. Temperance gave him a smile.

"Milo Jenkins." She said. "This is my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth. Booth, this is my new intern Milo Jenkins."

Booth leaned over to shake his hand. "That's some grip you got there." He told him.

"I use my hands often." Milo motioned to the wheels of the chair as he gave the agent a derisive smile. "I'll get to work on that project now, Dr. Brennan."

"Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. I'll come by in a little while to check on your progress."

Booth rested his hand on the small of Brennan's back as he guided her to her office. "Are you scaring the new intern already, Bones?"

"Are you implying that I am hard on my interns?"

"Nope" he said popping the "p". "I'm not implying anything." He said innocently teasing her. She swatted him playfully on the arm.

"Seriously, though, has Angela come up with anything using the skull?"

"As a matter of fact she has and I am happy to say that our victim no longer looks exactly like you. Angela's running the new face through some databases to try and locate a match."

"Well, that's a relief. " She turned to him after she shut the door to her office and closed the blinds when they were both inside. "So I was right. She, whoever she is, had her face reconstructed to look like mine."

"It doesn't make it any less creepy." Booth told her as he embraced her.

"No but it does mean that her death is not necessarily linked to me."

"The jury's still out on that one."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means until we have all the necessary facts, I am not going to take any chances where your safety is concerned." He said pulling her closer. "I gave Sweets the file and photographs to see if he can come up with anything we can use."

"Booth, you know I don't put much credence in psychology."

"It's a soft science, I know." He said used the terminology he so often heard from her mouth. "Now are you going to kiss me or what?"

"Why do you think I closed the blinds, Agent Booth?" She teased closing the small gap between them. He leaned down, his mouth covering hers gently coaxing his way inside. His tongue delved passed the barrier of her teeth, making her moan in pleasure. She pressed herself into him as he backed her against the wall, his fingers entwining themselves in her hair.

The intercom buzzer in her office went off disrupting them. Breathing heavily, they came apart.

"It's Angela." Brennan told him.

"Later." He mouthed as she pressed the intercom button.

"Yes, Angela."

"Did you just run to the phone sweetie? You're out of breath."

"Um, yeah." She replied, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Do you have something for me?"

"Actually I do. You better grab that hunky FBI agent and get in here pronto. You're both going to want to see this."

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_Angela Montenegro's Office_

"Presenting Deborah Wallace." Angela stated with flourish as she brought up the driver's license and picture matching her image construction.

"Is this our victim?" Booth asked pointing at the screen.

"Yes and no." Angela answered with an exasperated sigh.

"I don't understand. The picture matches perfectly." Temperance said eyeing the image Angela created and the picture that was on the computer.

"Hang on. This is where it gets really creepy." Angela replied, her fingers lightly stroking the computer keys.

"That phrase seems to be going around a lot lately." Brennan mumbled.

"Well you're about to see why." The screen split in two with Deborah Wallace's picture on one side and another image beginning to form on the other. "This." Angela said pointing at Deborah Wallace "is our victim's license picture taken five years ago and this…" she explained pointing to the other side of the screen as the other picture came full into view "is our victim's driver's license picture taken two years ago. I triple checked this just so you know." She gave them a rueful look.

"This can't be right." Brennan stared at the images before her, her brows furrowed in confusion. The new face on the screen was her own, just a bit different, the same image Angela created yesterday using what was left of the face.

"Believe me, sweetie. I wish it wasn't but there it is."

"What does this mean Angela?" Booth asked feeling the rise of panic once again as he tapped the screen with his forefinger.

"It means… five years ago Deborah Wallace was a seemingly normal young twenty seven year old woman living in DC. Two years ago Deborah Wallace changed her name to Kathy Reichs; walked into the DMV with a new face…Brennan's face… and changed her license. It's almost like you're the Bridget Fonda character in Single White Female, Bren."

"I don't know what that means but gathering from your tone, it's not a good thing."

"No, no it isn't." Booth replied instead, the muscle in his jaw ticking, the only outward sign that he was upset. Inside he was reeling, more so than he had been the day before. This woman, their victim, obviously had some sick fixation on Bones, _his_ Bones…going so far as to change her name to the main character in her well known books and even her face in attempt to become a replica of the brilliant forensic anthropologist.

"At least we have a name now and an address." Brennan said optimistically, straightening herself up from her leaning position at the monitor. "We can start there."

"There's more." Angela interrupted, a grim expression crossing her features. "And you're not going to like it." She warned.

"I haven't liked anything so far about this case." Booth said shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "So what else have you got?"

Angela explained as she typed a few more keystrokes. "I also found one Deborah Wallace in the Jeffersonian Database. It turns out three years ago she applied for the position of Bren's intern."

"Let me guess, she was turned down." Booth raked a hand through his hair.

"Flat. She never made it past the first cut. I can pull up the letter that was sent back to her if you like."

"No." Brennan shook her head. "I am sure it was the standard...um …rejection letter sent to all the refused applicants." Brennan tried to squash the emotion of guilt that took hold with a vengeance.

"Damn it." Booth exclaimed slamming his hand down on the desk making both Angela and Brennan jump. "The more answers we get, the more questions we have."

Temperance just stood in shocked silence, her gaze locked on the images of the woman.

Angela mistakenly took her silence as indifference. "Sweetie, aren't you the least bit upset about this?" Angela looked at her incredulously.

"Of course I am Angela but if I allowed myself to give in to my emotions, it could harm the integrity of the case." The truth was, she was more than upset. It actually felt like someone had just walked over her grave, to use a well known cliché' that even she understood. She suddenly did not know what was more disturbing; the manner of the woman's death or the fact that this Deborah Wallace had hated herself so much, she wanted to literally become someone else. Temperance Brennan found it hard to believe that _she _had been that someone.

"Let's go Bones. We'll bring Sweets with us. Maybe he can tell us something about the victim…other than she was a sicko, that is." Booth said already holding the door open for her. Angela did not miss the anger in Booth's voice or the way he looked at her friend with worry in his eyes.

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Temperance remained silent in the car as Booth cast worried glances her way. Sweets, too, remained silent watching the interaction between the two partners. He couldn't place a finger on it but he sensed that something in their usual dynamic had changed and quite drastically.

"Whatever you're thinking Bones…don't." Booth said to her finally. He wanted to reach out to her, to entwine his fingers with hers but he didn't dare, not with Sweets lurking in the back seat.

"You don't know what I'm thinking, Booth." She answered back alternating between annoyed and awed that he could read her so well.

"Yes, I do. You think that you pushed her over the edge by rejecting her into your program. Don't. It's not your fault."

"Actually, Agent Booth" Sweets said. "If this Deborah Wallace aka Kathy Reichs was actually as obsessed with Dr. Brennan as I am led to believe, Dr. Brennan's rejection may indeed have contributed to…"

"Not helping Sweets." Booth cut him off through clenched teeth, glaring at him through rearview mirror.

Lance Sweets visibly gulped. Pissing off the already on the edge FBI agent was not a good idea. "Sorry, you're right Agent Booth. My mistake. Dr. Brennan could not have known that the intern applicant was mentally unstable."

"Hear that Bones?…Not. Your. Fault." Unconsciously, he gave her shoulder a light squeeze of reassurance.

Temperance remained quiet, her eyes drifting to the scenery outside the window as it passed by. She knew he was only trying to make her feel better, to alleviate the growing burden of responsibility, however unwitting or unwanted, that now consumed her and she loved him for it. Funny, how easy it was for her to admit to the emotion now after so many years of denying it's existence. She loved Booth and however irrational it was; he loved her back with equal if not more intensity.

Her mind drifted back to the evening they met back at the reflecting pool six weeks prior.

_Flashback_

_She sat next to him, the moonlight casting a wavering reflection on the peaceful lapping of the water of the pool. The awkwardness of the moment wasn't lost on her. This was Booth, her partner for six years and she felt like a gangly young teenager again, tongue-tied at the sight of a handsome boy. He was trimmer since the last time she saw him and his hair was cut in the classic military style but he was still her Booth._

_She couldn't recall the exact moment when he became "Her" Booth, only that he had. Perhaps it was when she found a particularly exciting artifact and turned to share it with Booth only to realize that it was Daisy standing next to her or after that one letter she had written to him that never got sent or perhaps it was that one night surrounded by the flames of the campfire , talking with the local women when they told her in their own primitive way that love whether you admitted to it or not still exists and if it is not embraced it could only lead to dark torment. She had mulled that over a lot and came to the conclusion that she did love Booth and by not telling him, she was actually pushing him to do the one thing she was terrified of; she was pushing him to leave her._

_There were so many realizations she made when she was away and a few here at home after she spoke with Angela; though she'd never tell her earnest best friend that. But what was stopping her now from revealing herself, from what she wanted was him. Booth wasn't sitting as close to her as he usually did and the hug they shared was uncomfortable at best, almost as if he was afraid to touch her. Was she too late?_

"_So, did you meet anyone interesting in the Makookoo Islands, Bones?" Booth finally spoke, never taking his eyes from hers as he sipped his coffee._

_She fought back a smile knowing he only mispronounced the name to annoy her but she answered in the appropriated response. "It's Maluku Islands and yes I met lots of interesting people. Daisy and I even beat up a few guerillas…well I beat them up, Daisy for some reason stripped near naked. You would have been proud of me." She spotted his wicked grin and felt flustered. "Oh, you're asking me if I had sexual intercourse."_

_Booth nearly spit out his coffee at her blunt statement. "Same old bones." He shook his head. "I'm happy to see that hasn't changed." _

_Now she was confused. Didn't he want her to change? Wasn't that what held them back months ago before everything turned sour? She told him she couldn't change. He never said he didn't want her to._

_Instead of asking him the plethora of questions she suddenly had, she chose to answer his. "I did not have the time or the inclination to engage in any sexual activity. And you?" She held her breath waiting for him to answer the one word that had the potential to destroy her entirely._

"_It was a war zone Bones. The only action there was gunfire and bombs." He took a picture of himself out of his wallet and showed it to her._

_She expelled her breath and nodded taking the picture, delicately tracing the lines of his face in the photograph. She wondered if he noticed. "You seem to be carrying quite a bit of firearms for someone who was only supposed to be training." She observed handing the picture back to him._

_He didn't respond to her accusation but made one of his own. "You didn't write."_

"_No. I didn't write anyone. I thought it better that way." She admitted not revealing the one letter that she did write that was never mailed. She still carried it with her. Maybe one day she would let him read it._

_He seemed to take some time to contemplate her response. "So did you find what you were looking for…over there I mean?"_

_She thought about her answer. On an anthropological level, she didn't even come close. On a personal level; that was a different matter entirely. Don't rooster out now, Tempe, she chided herself knowing she got the phrasing wrong. Here is your opportunity. Grab it. Grab it with both hands and never let go._

_She squeezed her eyes shut, not daring to look at him when she answered. "I found that what I was looking for wasn't in any far off island buried under thousands of years of dirt, it was right here in D.C."_

_She heard him suck in a breath beside her but still didn't risk opening her eyes to look at him. "I'm afraid that I may have missed my moment." She admitted wiping a lone tear that seeped from her eye. Never had she felt so vulnerable by her own choice, never did she feel she needed to be._

"_What are you saying Bones?" Booth had asked very quietly, his calm tone belying the drumming of tension underneath the surface. She could feel it emanating from him. She needed to word this right and she silently cursed herself for her lack of social communication skills._

_She opened her moisture filled eyes then to look at him; to make him see her. The real her, not the cold doctor persona she hid behind. "I realize I may be saying this too late and by telling you this I may very well destroy the one relationship that I cannot live without but I want that chance, Booth. The same one you wanted months ago. I know I said I couldn't change and I still don't know if I can but a very smart person told me that love was compromise and I…I'm willing to try. For you. I just need to know if I am not too late; that you have not moved on as you said you were going to."_

"_Did you just say "love"?" _

_After everything she had just said, he had to focus on that. "I know that you may not love me and really, Booth, that's okay. I can accept that. Sometimes my manner of speaking can be a bit unclear. I just wanted you to know how I felt so there is no misunderstanding."_

_Booth softly chuckled beside her until it came to a full blown laugh. Now she was livid. "I bare my soul to you and you respond by laughing?" She had gotten up, knocking over the coffee that was left forgotten at her side and ran._

"_Bones, Wait." Booth yelled out. He had caught up to her and pulled her around to face him. He was still breathing heavy from the exertion. "Just wait." He said in-between heavy breaths. "I wasn't laughing at you."_

"_Yes you were." She said indignant even though the tears still flowed. "I told you how I felt and you very clearly laughed. That's the last time I listen to native women." _

"_No Bones. I was laughing because you said the one thing that I had wanted to hear for so long. And you've got it all wrong." He murmured, slipping his hand under her hair to caress the back of her neck. "I do love you, I have for a long, long time and I don't want you to change. I never have."_

"_But when I…"_

"_I realize what it must have looked like. But you have to believe me. I fell in love with you…for who you are…not some trumped up version of who I imagined you to be. If you changed, you wouldn't be the Temperance Brennan that drives me insane with wanting most of the time, the Temperance Brennan I love."_

_She felt her mouth tilt up in a small smile. "That's Doctor Temperance Brennan."_

"_Bones…just shut up and let me kiss you."_

_There was no more witty banter after that as his lips claimed hers in a possessive kiss that expressed all the pent up desire held in for nearly six years._

_End Flashback_

Kathy Reichs' Apartment Building

"You look just like her." The superintendant of Kathy Reichs' apartment building had stared at Temperance in wonder.

Temperance had been about to correct him but at the almost imperceptible shake of Booth's head, she remained quiet.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look in Ms. Reichs' apartment." Booth stated mostly to take the focus of his partner and onto the matter at hand. He was getting antsy and he knew it but this case had him on edge more so than any case he had worked before.

"Sure, sure. Just let me get the key." He muttered still unable to look away from Brennan, fumbling with the ring of keys he wore at his side. "She moved in about two years ago. She kept to herself, no complaints about her as far as I knew."

"Thank you." Brennan said to him after he opened the door for them.

"Don't go too far." Booth told the super as he walked away. "We may need to question you later…Yeah like he was listening to me." He bent down to examine the locks on the door. "Okay, no sign of forced entry."

"It is unlikely she was killed here." Brennan told him.

"I know Bones…just covering all the angles."

"Wow….this is…just wow." Lance Sweets exclaimed walking ahead of Brennan and Booth into Ms. Reichs' apartment. Sweets looked in awe at the room before him barely registering the fact that both Dr. Brennan and Booth were behind him. One wall was wholly dedicated to Dr. Brennan's book covers, each framed and organized according to publishing date. The various books on anthropology lined the bookcase shelves mingled with the books penned by Dr. Brennan. In the far corner of the room, stood a life size skeleton dressed in what could be a replica of the standard FBI suit.

Booth stopped short at the sight, eyeing the skeleton cautiously. "What or who is that supposed to be?" He knew without a doubt what it was supposed to be but the question came out anyway. Being here, in this place, even without any signs of foul play occurring here was making him queasy.

"Andy Lister, I presume." Sweets said going over to the skeleton and uttered a sigh of relief that the material the skeleton was made from was completely synthetic. "Fake." He said with a nervous laugh, touching the boney fingers that edged out of the bottom of the suit cuff.

"Of course, it's not real." Brennan rolled her eyes walking over to the skeleton to peer at the skull. "Even from across the room, I could see the color was too pristine to be a real skeleton. It's not even a good fake." She muttered feeling the urge to knock it backwards off it's stand. "That is not Andy Lister, by the way. This skeleton depicts a male not even 5'9" in stature. Andy Lister, as I wrote in my novels is clearly a larger build."

"More like Agent Booth's height?" Sweets suggested always the one to want her to get her to admit her non-partner like feelings for the FBI agent.

"Hey, don't bring me into this. Let's just have a look around" Booth said observing the apartment's décor a little more closely. "Get whatever leads we can and vamoose. Got it?"

"There appears to be a message on the answering machine." Brennan pointed towards the red blinking light on the phone.

"See. Now you're talking Bones. Let's see who is calling our little psycho."

"Agent Booth. Calling this woman a "psycho" is using such a broad term. I haven't had sufficient time to make an analysis and…"

"Look…she changed her face to look like Bones; she changed her name to Bone's character and look at this place. Bones could live here and feel at home." When Booth saw that Brennan was about to interrupt, he plowed on. "Not now Bones. I'm on a roll. She dresses up a skeleton to look like me...uh Andy Lister, another character in her books…so all of that" he spread out his arms-"adds up to psycho in my book."

"Okay Agent Booth. You made your point and while I concede that this Deborah slash Kathy woman wanted to be Dr. Brennan…"

"But she doesn't." Temperance cut in. When they both looked at her she continued. "Want to be me, that is. She wants to be Kathy Reichs, my character. I am not Kathy."

"Aren't you?" Sweets asked her. "While admittedly there are some slight differences between yourself and the character you created, it is obvious to me as much as it was obvious to our victim here that you are Kathy. The Kathy in your books however represents a manifestation of the self you desire to be, the self without the fears of abandonment. Unlike you, she is able to have a fulfilling sexual relationship with her partner without succumbing to the terrors of being left alone once again."

At Booth's murderous look, Sweet's realized that he stepped way over an invisible boundary. He took a voluntary step back from the furious agent wanting to get out of punching range in case Booth felt the need to strike.

Temperance turned away feeling moisture rise unbidden to her eyes. Everything Sweets said was true and she was sure he didn't mean to express it so bluntly or so cruelly. Only she and Booth knew of the immense steps they had taken in their relationship and she was sincerely trying to put her greatest fears behind her.

"Enough with the shrinky mumbo jumbo Sweets. Whatever you said has no pertinence to the case, got it? Unless you have something worthwhile to say about Deborah Wallace, I…we don't want to hear it."

"It's okay Booth." She said resting her hand on his arm in comfort.

"I…I'm sorry Dr. Brennan." Sweets managed to say through his nerve strangled voice which seemed to raise nearly an octave. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I only meant that…"

"Enough, Sweets." Booth ground out between his clenched teeth. The young psychologist obviously didn't realize he was on very dangerous ground and just kept sticking his foot further down his mouth. He really didn't want to hurt the kid, hell he even liked him to a certain point not unlike how he felt for his younger brother but hurting Tempe's feelings was a deal breaker, regardless of how close to being right he was in the past. But things were different now; Booth had to keep reminding himself. He and Bones erased the line he so foolishly drew years ago, had hurdled over their miscommunications and came away whole and together on the other side. He wanted to tell Sweets the truth; that his current assumptions were all wrong and they would eventually. Eventually everyone would know but for now he wanted to enjoy his new found relationship without the typical office gossip mill intruding.

The answering machine message turned out to be a computerized voice from a collection agency urgently requesting her to call back at her earliest convenience. No help there, Booth thought.

"Booth?" Brennan called out to him as she was going through the victim's mail. "Take a look at this." She showed him the various opened bills from a local plastic surgeon. The amount she owed was staggering. Apparently, total face reconstruction cost a lot of money.

"This is good, Bones. Real good. Let's start with Dr. Face Off. See where that leads us."

"I don't know what that means."

He grinned, his first honest grin since they were in Bone's office earlier in the day. "I'll show you someday." He clapped his hands, signaling for Sweets who was looking in the victim's bedroom. "Okay Sweets…chop, chop. We're leaving."

Sweets ran down the small hallway. "But I'm not…."  
"Save it for later. Don't worry, we'll be back but right now we have a plastic surgeon to question."

"Wait a minute. You think her plastic surgeon did this? I don't think so."

Booth threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Okay I give. Why not?"

"Well it would be the same thing as Dr. Brennan here burning one of her books or an artist destroying his own painting. I just don't see it happening…at least not without a really good reason."

"Are you comparing someone who does boob jobs for a living with a writer or a painter? Have you been taking candy from strangers again, Sweets?" Booth was incredulous. He heard some wacky things coming from Sweets but this rivaled many of them.

"Just think about it, Agent Booth."

"He's right." Temperance voiced in as they made their way out to Booth's SUV. "The surgeon might consider himself her creator of a sort thereby making it next to impossible to destroy his creation."

"Didn't Frankenstein destroy his monster?...Wait don't tell me…work of fiction, doesn't apply. Damn it!" Booth yelled kicking the wheel of his tire. "Why does someone always insist on pissing on my parade?"

Brennan knew better than to reply to his rhetorical question or correct him, not when he was in this mood. "We'll interview him anyway." She told him trying to placate him. "Even if he didn't kill her, he may know of someone who would want to." _Then we could at least shift the focus off me._

Booths phone went off as they drove towards the plastic surgeons office.

"Booth." He answered.

"_Booth, its Cam. We got a tox-screen back on our vic. Turns out she was given heavy doses of Suxamethonium Chloride a depolarizing neuromuscular blocker. "_

"In English, Cam."

"_It s a paralyzing drug."_

"_Now_ where getting somewhere. " He said with a nod of his head. "Would it have killed her?"

"_Given the amounts we detected, I would have to say yes, Seeley."_

"Thanks Cam…and don't call me Seeley." He pressed the end button of the phone. "We got cause of death. Tell me...would a plastic surgeon have access to a paralyzing drug?"

"Yes, actually. Many surgeons use various paralyzing agents during surgery to prevent the patient from moving and possibly causing a detrimental mistake."

"Uh huh, uh huh." Booth nodded his head feeling very cocky and wanting nothing more than to stick his tongue out at Sweets but he knew the kid would probably over analyze that too. "Can you see where I am going with this?"

"Oh. I get it." Brennan smiled. "I am impressed Booth. Now all we need is a motive."

"I still think you're wrong." Sweets called out from the back seat crossing his arms over his chest. They'll find out soon enough. It would, however be interesting to see the doctor's reaction when he was faced with the unwitting inspiration of his work.

Booth hoped he was right, even though his gut was screaming otherwise. It would mean that Bones never had been in any danger and it was all one of those coincidences he never truly believed in. The problem was his gut was rarely ever wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

"The website on my phone indicates that Dr. Harrigan, Deborah Wallace's cosmetic surgeon is one of the best on the east coast." Brennan said looking at the small screen of her new phone on the way to said Doctor's offices on the other side of town. They had dropped Sweets off at the FBI building to continue his psychological analysis of the victim.

Booth gave her an amused glance as he momentarily took his eyes off the road to look at her. "Hey, you finally upgraded to modern technology and got rid of that archaic thing you called a cell phone. Is that an Iphone?"

"Why yes it is." She said her eyes lighting up, holding up the phone so he could get a better look at it through his peripheral vision. "My battery kept dying on the old one and the young sales clerk at the store said batteries will do that after awhile and since they didn't make the batteries or the phone anymore, I should just get a new one." Brennan stated as she started to play with some of the buttons on the phone.

He shook his head, a grin splitting his face."I don't get you. You won't buy a TV but you'll let some young kid sweet –talk you into buying a phone with features you'll never use."

She continued to talk animatedly. "There are many interesting and useful applications. For instance, did you know that there is an application for just about anything? Even on forensic science?"

"You better watch out Bones or you'll be out of business. You _could_ always have a "Bones" App created. Want a sexy forensic anthropologist? There's an app for that." He joked as he rounded the next corner.

"I find that scenario highly unlikely but I am happy that my physical attributes please you." She countered and eyed him with an appreciative look as he tried to loosen the tie around his neck. "But back to Dr. Harrigan. I assume being one of the best, he has no need for money so murdering Ms. Wallace despite the fact that she owed him a considerable amount wouldn't be sufficient enough reason to kill her."

"You're forgetting one thing, Bones. The more money you have, the more money you want. It's greed, pure and simple." At least he hoped it was. It would be neat and tidy, just the way he liked it.

"That is not true. Look at Dr. Hodgins for example. He is very wealthy and I have never seen a desire in him to want more. In fact he was so ashamed that he had all that money, he kept it a secret for years."

"Yeah but, Hodgins is a squint. Squints don't think like normal people." Booth sighed then willing to concede that money may not be a motive. "Okay, so maybe not money…then it would have to be for another reason. Considering the state the body was found in, I will guess that the motive was very personal. I think even Sweets would agree with me on that." He could already feel the familiar rush of adrenaline spread through his veins at the prospect of interviewing a suspect.

BBBBB

Before they got a chance to open their mouths to identify themselves, the receptionist greeted them with a warm smile.

"Ms. Wallace! How wonderful to see you again. I am sure Dr. Harrigan would love to see you. Hang on, let me get him for you."

"But…" Brennan tried to interrupt until Booth shushed her.

"Element of surprise Bones." He said out of the side of his mouth hoping she'd listen to him.

"You're quite lucky. Dr. Harrigan has a few spare moments. You can just go back to his office."

"Thank you." Brennan responded not wanting to give herself away by saying she didn't know where his office was.

After a few wrong turns they found their way to Doctor Harrigan's plush office. He sat at his desk reviewing some patient files as they walked into the room. Noticing the intrusion, he looked up at the pair, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He was a striking looking middle aged man with dark hair graying just a bit at his temples.

"You're not Deborah Wallace." He said getting up from his chair, walking around his desk to stand before them. His gaze was so intense on Temperance as if he were inspecting her features, she took a slight step backwards.

"How can you be so sure?" Booth asked him feeling all of the surety that this was their killer seep right out of him. Unless Dr. Boob Job was a real cool cucumber, this wasn't their guy.

The Dr. rolled his eyes. "Please. I know my work. This woman clearly has never had any work done. So since you are not Deborah, who the hell are you?"

Booth displayed his I.D. for him. "Special Agent Seeley Booth. This is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. We'd actually like to ask you a few questions about Deborah Wallace."

"I'd like to help you but I am bound by Doctor Patient confidentiality."

"Ms. Wallace is deceased." Brennan told him bluntly. She watched the doctors face visibly pale. Damn. Booth said she was too blunt. Perhaps she should have phrased it better. She actually thought deceased was a kinder word than dead, though.

"When?" Dr. Harrigan asked sitting slowly back down in his chair.

"We have estimated she was murdered somewhere between late Friday night and early Saturday morning." Booth informed him, sitting in a seat at the opposite side of the doctor's desk while Temperance took the opportunity to look around the room. She noted the various medical degrees from sub-ivy league Universities on the wall along with some before and after pictures of his patients. The one of Deborah Wallace seemed to be larger than the rest and received a prominent space on the wall.

"Wait. You think I murdered her?" Dr. Harrigan asked in disbelief.

"That's what we're here to find out." Booth said removing his notepad from his inside pocket and made a show of flipping some pages over, his hand held his pen over the empty page poised to write.

"This is ridiculous. There is no way I would ever harm Deborah. She was my star patient."

"Star patient? Can you tell us what you mean by that?"

The doctor sighed heavily. "Look, you probably did some research on me before you came here and discovered I am considered one of the best in the field. But that wasn't the case two years ago."

At his sudden hesitation, Booth had to prompt him to continue. "Go on."

" I was good, don't get me wrong but I was nothing like the man you see here today. People…women mostly…came here with the usual requests; breast enhancements, tummy tucks, face, lifts, nose jobs…well you get the picture. Then Deborah Wallace walks into my office with a picture…a picture of you, although I didn't know it at the time." – He managed to look apologetic – "She wanted a complete facial reconstruction and I don't know… I was greedy I guess for the notoriety. "

"You assumed that if you were successful, it would boost your career." Brennan stated finally sitting in the chair besides Booth.

Dr. Harrigan's face tinged pink. "Essentially yes. And it worked. When word got out, I had to turn patients away."

"But she owes you a considerable amount of money. Surely you couldn't forget that."

"She was on a payment plan. One I didn't enforce with any regularity. She paid what she could, when she could. We mutually benefitted from each other. And before you ask..no I didn't sleep with her."

From his days as a gambler, Booth knew everyone had their "tells". It could be a shifting of the eyes, a drumming of the fingers on a surface, a crossing of the legs but as far as he could tell this guy, this _doctor_ had nothing. There were no outward signs of any deceit. In fact he sat with his hands clasped in front of him on the desk and his eye contact never wavered. He barely even blinked.

"While we're on the subject, Dr Harrigan. I realize it was two years ago but did Ms. Wallace ever mention a boyfriend…a lover?"

Dr. Harrigan was silent for a moment. "Now that you mention it, I believe she may have. An FBI agent, think. Andy? Perhaps you know him Agent Booth?"

"He obviously hasn't read any of my books." Brennan mumbled under her breath to Booth who put his hand over his mouth to try and hide a grin. "Do you know of the drug Suxamethonium Chloride?" Brennan asked cocking her head to one side in innocent inquiry.

"You mean suxamethonium? Sure, I have."

"Have you ever used it on a patient?"

"No. Not in my line of work. It's really used only for emergency medicine. The side effects are too risky for me."

"Do you mind if I take a look in your pharmaceutical cabinet?"

"That's fine. I'll have Allison, my assistant, show it to you."

BBBBB

"Not our guy." Booth said on their way out to the car. "His alibi will check out. I can almost guarantee it."

"And the only paralytics I found in his cabinets were various non-depolarizing blocking agents not polarizing ones like suxamethonium is . He probably uses different ones dependent upon the expected duration of each individual surgery."

"Thanks for clearing that up for me Bones." Booth chuckled.

"You're quite welcome." She smiled. "So...what now? Would you like to go back to my apartment to satisfy some biological urges? I find sex can be very therapeutic especially in recovering from the disappointment that we didn't grasp our guy yet." She said suggestively caressing his thigh with her hand, leaning into him ever so slightly.

He covered her hand with his own and squeezed, feeling himself begin to throb at her proposal. He wanted to. He really wanted to turn his SUV around and break all speed limits to get to her apartment where he could take her any way he wanted her but his gut dictated that they needed to solve this murder and fast. "That's _catch_ our guy, Bones. Catch. And as much as I would love to go back to your place and _make love _to you." he said stressing the love part of his sentence. "We are not quite finished for the day yet. Now we go interview her co-workers at the…" he pulled put a piece of paper from his pocket "… National Museum of Natural History"

"Hmm, I suppose it's quite obvious why she chose to seek employment there all things considering. Okay but when we are done…"

"When we're done…baby I am all yours."

"I'm holding you to that and don't call me baby." She crossed her arms over her chest not willing to admit she secretly liked the rather possessive endearment. She couldn't put a particular scientific name to the feeling but it did odd, wonderful things to her insides.

BBBBB

The whole day was a bust as Booth would clarify it, Temperance thought as she diligently wrote her notes up for the day. Deborah Wallace's co- workers –for she refused to call her Kathy Reichs – had offered up no useful information. She had been a model employee, kept to herself and no one knew much of her personal life except she was dating an FBI agent named Andy Lister. Apparently no one there had read her books either, Temperance scoffed. Unless…maybe there _was_ an Andy Lister. Oh, no one by the actual name of course but perhaps there was a man in her life that she named after her character. But then why would she have a fake skeleton who was obviously "Andy"? No the pieces didn't fit, no matter how many different ways she tried to reason it out.

"Ready to go Bones?" Booth asked walking into her office. "I'm in the mood for Thai tonight."

She looked up at him and smiled. "I hope that's not all you're in the mood for."

"Well, I could always go for dessert afterwards." He teased. "And I'm not talking pie."

He knew better than to touch her here, in her office with the door open where anyone could see but his hands itched to do just that as he watched her place a wayward tendril of hair behind her ear before lithely standing from her chair and grabbing her coat. Booth crossed the room to her, taking her coat from her arm and holding it so she could slip her arms through the sleeves. He gently removed her hair that had gotten caught under the collar and took the opportunity to caress the back of her neck.

"You keep that up and we'll never leave my office."

"Well this is touching." Caroline Julian, the formidable US Attorney's office prosecutor said placing her hand on her hefty hips as she eyes her two favorite crime fighters. She glanced up at the ceiling and back down at them causing both Booth and Brennan to glance upwards.

"Is there anything on the ceiling?" Booth asked.

"Just looking for the mistletoe Cherie. " She said with a saucy smirk.

"What are you doing here Caroline?"

"I have a case for you. So whatever you're working on now…put it on the back burner."

"What do you mean?" She turned to Booth, sensing his sudden taut appearance and the grim line that replaced his earlier smile. "Booth, what does she mean?"

"It means she wants us to stop working our current case."

"No" Temperance replied, her shoulders straightening getting ready for the argument that was about to ensue. "I can't just stop in the middle of a murder investigation."

"You can if the orders come from the top, Cherie. Believe me I wouldn't do this if I could help it."

"What do you mean, the top? Just what is this about?"

"Cullen gave me a direct order to get you two on the case ASAP. Apparently, he is too much of a chicken shit to ask you himself. If you pardon my expression." She smiled sweetly and sighed, resigned to deliver her orders. "Okay, here it is, Cher's. The bodies of a federal judge and his wife were found murdered and Cullen would consider it a personal favor if the two of you would take on the case."

"If you already identified the bodies, I don't see why you need me." Brennan told her.

"Those weren't the only bodies, Dr. Brennan. But we're losing time. I'll explain more on our way to the grave sight."

"Grave sight?" Booth asked suddenly going still.

"Yes, Agent Booth. Grave sight."

"Just how many bodies were found?" Temperance asked as they made their way out of the Jeffersonian.

"Five." Caroline said dourly. "Six bodies and seven graves, all lined up nice and neat. The last one was empty and I want to see this bastard get caught before he tries to fill it."

BBBBB

Next up: we get a glimpse of our killer (s?)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N I realized I made a small but significant error on my previous chapter (see what happens when you don't proof properly). I mentioned there were five bodies and in the very next sentence I said there were six. Well there are indeed six bodies and seven graves. I just wanted to be clear on that and sorry for any confusion.

BBBBB

The woman had been a mistake. The only one he made so far. He was determined not to make another one. But she had looked so much like _her_. It was his own fault he supposed. He had just been too heady with his recent successes, too arrogant; he didn't stop to think. He should have known she would never be in a bar like that and when he followed her out, the dark night obscured her true features. It was only until after he injected her with the syringe and put her in the back of his van could he tell. Lit by the dim light in his vehicle, he saw her clearly and cursed himself for his utter carelessness. He knew _her_ features so well, studied them, drew them and the woman he had just abducted was nothing but a cheap imitation; a fraud and a liar. And he made her pay for it, brutally, viciously in a death befitting her; the punishment she deserved. She had looked just like her but his practiced eye could see the subtle differences. It didn't matter now, what was done was done.

T he late fall night lent a certain stillness to his thoughts as he drove swiftly down the barren road. That is until he saw it; the swarm of tell-tale blue and red lights circulating in the distance. Damn it. They had found his site. What he thought was the perfect hiding place was now awash with law enforcement digging up his meticulously buried leftovers. He would have to find a new place. But that was okay, he mused. It was only fitting that he have a separate resting place for _her_. She was to be his masterpiece, his visual magnum opus; his queen. Yes, he would have to find somewhere very special for her eternal rest, he pondered as he turned his vehicle around and drove in the opposite direction. It would have to happen soon. Her and her partner's solve rate was high and he wouldn't disillusion himself believing that they would never find him; not with that scientific "think tank" of hers. If only he could manage to get her away from her damn partner, he could achieve his final goal.

BBBBB

"Okay Caroline, so what are we talking about here?" Booth asked as he careened through the streets going towards the more rural areas of Virginia. His mouth had been set in a grim line ever since Caroline had said "bodies" with an "S", meaning more than one. This was the cherry on the cake of his day.

Caroline held on to the seats in front of her from her place in the back seat trying not to slide all over the back seat due to Booth's NASCAResque driving. "All I know Cher, is the man that now owns the property was going around the outskirts of his land with a metal detector. Poor soul thought he found buried treasure or something but when he dug it up he sure got an eye full. Turns out when the police showed up, they discovered the other graves." When Booth had rounded the next corner a little too fast for her liking she had to speak up. "Where's the fire, Cherie. Those bodies aren't going anywhere."

Yeah, didn't he know it. "Sorry" he said slowing his pace. "So the guy with the metal detector, was he questioned already?"

"He was but he was told to hang around. The local boys thought you might want a crack at him. They're not too keen on the FBI taking over but they'll cooperate."

"They never are." Booth muttered knowing full well that the local cops hated when the FBI swooped in think they were stealing their glory. Well, he wasn't too happy about taking on this case either, not when the other one was haunting him. He fought the urge to slam the steering wheel with his palm in blatant frustration.

BBBBB

Local police were everywhere, Brennan noticed as she climbed out of the SUV. She tried to maintain her stoic composure even though she knew her crime scene was being contaminated by so many feet treading around. The smell of death permeated the air all around them. It was an odor she was used to; an odor that, however disturbing, never failed to remind her why exactly she spent her days unflinchingly examining decomposed bodies; to give the dead a voice and the living the answers they needed.

Bright yellow police tape cordoned of the area surrounding the seven holes in the ground; which weren't really holes at all, she noticed as she got closer, but precisely dug rectangular graves in equal measurements.

"I'll question the old man while you take a look at our bodies." Booth told her. She nodded mutely, already planning on doing just that. She ducked under the yellow tape with undefined grace, never noticing how the others watched her with unabashed fascination at her beauty and determined resolve.

"This was the first one we dug up. Judging by the smell, it's also the oldest." One of the officers explained to her pointing towards the top left hand grave, his other hand covering his nose and mouth.

"Here." She said handing him the ointment she always carried with her. "Rub some under your nose. It'll help with the smell."

"What about you?" He asked noticing she didn't have any on.

She shrugged. "I don't need it." Brennan replied and wondered sadly what that said about her.

Kneeling in the dirt besides the hole, she held her flashlight positioning it so she could get a wide view of the body.

"Where's the judge?" She asked him fighting against the upward tilt of her lips when she noticed the officer had slathered on almost the whole tube under his nose. He must be new to this, she thought noticing for the first time how young he looked. Hopefully he would never get used to the smell of death like she had.

"Second one in. His wife is the one next to him." She nodded briefly clearing her head from her morose thoughts instead she focused her attention on the body in the grave.

"Female, mid to late twenties, stage of decomp about 6 months. Will be able to get a more accurate date once Dr. Saroyen, Dr. Hodgins and I examine further."

Wiping away the hair that came loose from her ponytail with the back of her gloved hand, she stood up and moved in between the two rows to get a birds-eye view of the first victim. She was naked, the woman's hands were pressed together between her breasts, her fingertips pointed up towards her chin. It was then that she noticed the metal rods placed underneath her arms. So that was how the metal detector picked it up, Brennan thought to herself. Her flashlight glinted off more metal entwined in between her fingers. The wire was fine, probably made from steel. Swiftly, she turned around with flashlight in hand to view the contents of the grave behind her and sucked in her breath at what she saw.

BBBBB

Booth wasn't getting much more information from the old guy than the local officers had judging by the notes he read before interviewing Bob Meadows for himself.

"So let me get this straight. You just happened to be out here with a metal detector and came across of graves. Have you ever been back here before?" Booth asked him.

"Look. We just moved here a month ago." Mr. Meadows explained. "My aunt left it to me in her will so my wife and I thought it would be a good idea to retire here, ya know. I never been back this far yet and well, the Mrs. claimed I was getting on her nerves…that happens when you're retired you know."

"What does?" Booth asked with a hint of a smile at the man's cragginess.

"Gettin' on eachother's nerves. Call it a non-occupational hazard when you and the wife are both retired. Anyway I know how she is when she gets like that so I thought I'd do some exploring. I got all the way back here before the damn thing starts going off like crazy so I started to dig. I never expected to find that poor girl." He finished with his voice breaking.

"Mr. Meadows, do you happen to know if your aunt ever came back here?" This part of the property was pretty far back from the house, Booth noted and much of it was obscured by foliage.

"Aunt Clara? No. She was getting on in years, she could barely walk."

Booth believed everything he said. He had no reason to believe this guy was anything more than he claimed to be. He would check it out anyway but this line of inquiry was a dead end.

"Just one more question, Mr. Meadows. Is this area easily accessible other than coming from your house?"

"I believe there is a small dirt road about a mile from here. I'm sure just about anyone with a four wheel drive would be able to do it. I heard it's a pretty popular route with the college kids in the area."

"Booth!" He heard Bones call out to him. "Can you come here please?" There was a certain hitch to her voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Excuse me." He said to the still distraught man and walked swiftly to where Brennan stood looking into the grave.

"Whatcha got Bones?" He said placing his hand against the small of her back in an unconscious gesture as he leaned over to look into the hole, trying not to grimace at the foul stench coming at him in waves. He fought the urge to bury his face in the crook of her neck and inhale her erotic scent instead. Down boy, he told himself. There will be time for that later.

"Take a look at that." She pointed at the woman. "Notice the way her hands are positioned. She was permanently posed."

All thoughts of laying naked and sweaty with the woman beside him were violently pulled from his mind as he stared at the decaying corpse of the young woman.

"She looks like she's praying." Booth said shoving his hand through his hair. A pained looked crossed his features as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't tell me we have a religious freak serial killer on our hands." He said angrily. The last thing he needed or wanted was some holier than thou serial killer on the loose. Those guys were the worst; believing that they had some divine right or some Godly mission to murder. Thou shalt not kill, yeah right.

"I don't think so. Look at this one here." She said motioning to the body behind them. "He is posed as well , using the same type of wire but not in prayer. See. His hands are formed into fists, the right above the left, his elbows pointing down. Booth, I know what this is." She said excitedly, the light of discovery shining in her eyes.

"And?" he asked impatiently, his hands moving to his hips. He had turned away from the body. He couldn't look at it anymore and there were still other bodies yet to view. He wondered if they would ever get out of there.

"Part of my graduate study was done in England studying the symbolism of funerary effigies of the Templar Knights. Booth these are _effigies._ He is posed like he should be clutching a sword, signifying death in battle. Women were usually posed like the first victim. Both are congruent with the medieval period of history."

"Great. More medieval shit. Can you estimate time of death?

"The first victim was murdered approximately 6 months ago. This man here, I would have to say no more than a week. I would have to do a more complete examination to be positive. I think it would be better if we take everything back to the Jeffersonian. It's too dark for me to establish anything with any degree of certainty."

"Are they all posed?" Booth had to ask her.

"I'll check" Brennan walked in between the rows carefully looking at each victim until she stopped at the second to the last grave. She stopped and turned walking back to Booth with a frown of consternation on her face.

"The last body doesn't have a head."

"You mean he or she was decapitated?"

"It was a he and yes. It appears that way. And in answer to your previous question, with the exception of the judge and his wife, they were all posed in effigy fashion." She wondered what the significance was with the difference of the judge and his wife. Why weren't they posed like the rest? All were obviously done by the same killer.

"Do you think this is related to the other case?" He asked her, swallowing hard, his gut clenching with the possibility.

"I won't know for sure until I can do further analysis back at the Jeffersonian. If they are related, it doesn't make sense that Deborah Wallace wasn't buried here as well." She reasoned.

"So two murderers, both with medieval fetishes? I don't buy it. There has to be a connection somehow. We just have to find it."

"That's why we get paid the big bucks." She said giving him a pat on the shoulder before walking towards the other policemen.

"Speak for yourself." He muttered as he caught up to her. "Okay boys" He called out to the agents around the area and clapped his hands. "Get everything packed up and to the Jeffersonian. You, you and you" he pointed to three agents placing evidence markers. "There is a dirt road about a mile south. I need it inspected for tire tracks, discarded beer cans… anything you can identify and even stuff you can't."

Booth received a series of low grumbles and moans in reply. "C'mon, chop, chop. I got a carton of take out Thai with my name on it."

Booth grasped Brennan's elbow and steered her past the yellow tape. "Are we leaving?" she asked him glancing back towards the graves. She stumbled over some earth and Booth held her tighter to keep her from falling. He didn't dare mention that she watch where she was going. He knew she would get all self sufficient on his ass.

"Yup. We're grabbing Caroline and then we're outta here." He said instead.

"But the bodies…I didn't get to view them all." Brennan protested. She wanted more than anything to leave this place and go home with him, no matter whose home it was but another part of her saw six people that needed to be heard, six families that needed resolution and closure and one very sick bastard that needed to be brought to justice.

"It'll take them hours to pack everything up. The bodies will be there in the morning. It's not like they're going to get up and just walk away. We, on the other hand need to eat. Besides I think I want to have my dessert first." Booth couldn't wait to get out of this place of death. He only wanted two things more than anything at that moment; a shower and Temperance naked beneath him. Even better if those wants could be taken care of at the same time.

"You do, do you?" she said suggestively realizing he was perhaps right. She was running on nearly empty. By the time all was said and done, she would be in no shape to examine the victims properly. It would be better if she approached them with a clear mind.

"Yes. I do. And I don't mean pie."

BBBBB

_He was running; searching for her in the forest thick with trees. The swirl of fog wrapped around his limbs like tethers slowing his mad pace. His heart pounded like thunder in his chest as fear threatened to strangle him. He pushed his legs harder, faster, ignoring the burning sensation in his lungs as he fought in a race against time._

"_BONES!...TEMPERANCE!" he screams out in between rough pants. He could see nothing past his own cloud of breath._

_Suddenly he was in an open field; looming before him a rectangular hole in the ground. His pace sluggish. As if in slow motion, he approached the opening in the ground._

_There she lay as if in deep slumber, her hear cascading down her shoulders. Her lips were blue and he couldn't detect any rise and fall in her chest. A ring of bruising marred her throat; the only marking on her otherwise pale flesh. Sinking down to his knees, he sobbed._

"_No Temperance, NO." He cried out hollowly._

"_Booth…Booth…Seeley. I'm here."_

Booth's eyes snapped open, his breathing harsh to his own ears, his heart thumping furiously and a fine sheen of cold sweat covered his bare chest.

"Booth…Seeley" Bones said in a cautious whisper. "I'm right here."He could feel her hand in his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He palmed his eyes trying to wipe away the tears that he felt were starting to leak before he turned to her. Her vivid blue eyes stared back at him on concern. He could drown within those depths of blue and never once want to come up for air.

He concentrated on slowing his breathing as her drew her close, enveloping her in his arms so her head rested on his chest. He was sure she could hear the rapid beat of his heart. The vivid images of his nightmare still flashed through his mind. It was only a dream. He had to remind himself. It wasn't real.

"Were you dreaming of Afghanistan?" She asked while her fingertips skated soothingly along his chest. "It would be quite normal. Your brain is probably releasing the stress you endured through that time in the form of unsettling nightmares."

He wiped his palms across the lid of his eyes again and almost let out an amused sob. "Yeah, Bones. I was dreaming of Afghanistan." Booth lied. He hated doing it but he couldn't tell her the dream was about her. She would scoff and counter that his fears were not based on any scientific fact and were completely illogical. But were they…were they really?

"Do you want to talk about it?' She asked lifting her head to look at him.

He shook his head. "No. I don't want to talk." He said huskily before he covered her mouth with his own. He didn't want to talk…he wanted to feel. Feel her, specifically. Know that she was alive and safe in his arms.

Booth rolled over her, kissing her hungrily, his hands clutching the sides of her head to keep her in place as he plundered. There was nothing leisurely about this joining. It was desperate and hungry and spoke in volume what words never could. She was already wet for him as he slid into her, pounding furiously; needing the release that only she could give him. He let out an anguished cry as he came and buried his face in her shoulder as she brought her hands up to cradle him to her.

Brennan sensed he needed the comfort. He hadn't spoke much about his time in Afghanistan and she knew what he didn't say told more than what he did. It was when he was vulnerable like this that she loved him all the more. Booth always appeared to be the strong albeit cocky type, using his humor as a shield to cover the sensitive man she knew hid underneath.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked him, smoothing her hand through his sweat dampened hair.

"Yeah, Baby. As long as you're with me I'll be okay." That was true at least, Booth thought to himself.

Brennan held him tighter and the last thoughts he had before he drifted off to sleep was she didn't correct him when he called her "baby".


	5. Chapter 5

Dr. Camille Saroyan, head of the Jeffersonian Institute's Forensic Division and perhaps better known as the ringleader to the circus of genius squints who worked there took a fortifying breath before swiping her security card to gain entrance into the pristine hi-tech building. Ever since Caroline had informed her yesterday that all current investigations must cease to give high priority to the murder of a federal judge, his wife and four unidentified bodies, she had dreaded having to come into the office today. This new case had all the earmarkings of a logistical nightmare and she could practically feel Deputy Director Cullen breathing down her neck already for answers and a list of suspects.

She knew her people could work well under the most intense of pressures. That particular theory had been tested and proven time and time again. The Gravedigger and Howard Epps cases came to mind and Cam couldn't help the shudder that went through her at the extremely close calls her colleagues and even herself had had. However, this felt different. When Dr. Brennan had called her the evening before with her preliminary findings; that the murders appeared ritualistic, Cam knew without a doubt that not only would the government be on their proverbial backs because a federal judge had been murdered but suddenly the case had taken a sensationalistic vein that could only throw the media into a virtual feeding frenzy once word got out. And it would get out. It always did. It would make their jobs that much more difficult.

Cam slapped on her gloves and with one more cleansing breath, she made her way down to the flurry of activity going on below her. The body Judge Simpson had already been placed in the autopsy suite, signaling, as if she didn't already know, that his body took precedence over all the others.

Just as she was about to enter the glass doors of her domain, Dr. Hodgins walked briskly up to her with a disturbed look on his face. Over the years, Cam had gotten to know the forensic entomologist well and knew this particular expression that he gave her now did not bode well.

"Have you seen any of the bodies brought in yet?" He asked her with a frenetic note to his voice.

"I barely had time to digest my first cup of coffee." She replied caustically.

"So I take that as a "no". You really need to see this then." He told her as he nodded towards the main room of the lab where most of the bodies had been laid out the night before. "Trust me." He finished with a knowing glance.

"This had better be good." Cam muttered following Hodgins down the stairs.

"It is." Hodgins paused for a beat as they made their descent down the stairs and turned back to look at her. "You…ah…didn't have anything to eat besides that coffee, did you?"

"No." Cam stated warily. "I am sure whatever you have to show me Dr. Hodgins is nothing I haven't seen before."

"You may want to change your opinion after you see what I have to show you." He added cryptically.

Hodgins watched Cam with a look of ghoulish anticipation as he waited for her reaction to the first body he showed her.

Cam noted the deep slit in the body's abdomen. Pushing aside the loose tissue, she realized that the organs beneath had been removed. "She was disemboweled?" She asked with a horrified look at Hodgins.

"Yup." He said popping his 'p". "And that's not all. This man over here…we're calling him the knight by the way" – he added forcing her attention to the next body. "Well he has some very interesting marks on the back of his body. If you would just…" He signaled with his finger a turning motion as he grasped the body by the shoulders. Together they turned the man over exposing a series of equally spaced puncture wounds covering the whole underside of the body.

"What on earth?" Cam was perplexed. This was something she had never seen before.

"That's what I said. Ange is working on a possible cause for these injuries as well as composite sketches of the victims that actually have heads. If you look closely the punctures are equally spaced…down to the centimeter."

Cam ran her fingers over the wounds. "They don't appear to be all that deep. I doubt this would have killed him…why the knight?" she asked as an afterthought.

"It was Dr. Brennan who sort of came up with it. She said the way he was found was consistent of an effigy of a knight that died in battle. It just sort of stuck…pardon the pun." He added sheepishly unsuccessfully hiding his sudden one sided smirk.

"And you said all the bodies that had heads? Do we actually have one without one?" Cam sighed. She hated the headless ones. Without a head, you had no face and without a face then you had no identity.

"He's in the far right corner. Dr. Brennan estimated he is young…perhaps 23 years old. Dead approximately a week to ten days. Dr. B deferred to you on that one. He's a little to uh…juicy for her."

Cam ignored his last statement, used to his somewhat disturbed sense of humor. "Speaking of Dr. Brennan, where is she?"

"Last I heard she was with Booth checking out Judge Simpson's residence."

"And her intern? I don't see him here." Cam said looking around trying to locate the young wheelchair bound man.

"He uh had a doctor appointment. Something about being fitted for a new wheelchair."

"Wonderful. Of all the days to be operating with less than full capacity. Well Dr. Hodgins, it looks like we have our work cut out for us."

BBBBB

Armed with large high octane coffees, it was early when they started on their drive to the affluent neighborhood Walker Chapel in Arlington Virginia. Brennan gave a sideways glance to her partner noting his unusual quiet. It wasn't a still quiet however. Over the years she had become so in tuned to Booth's body language and the muscle tick in his jaw and the tense hunch of his shoulders told her that this was the calm before the storm. He may seem still but there was much going on beneath the surface.

"You are unusually silent." She finally said when she could bear no more. The fingers that he had entwined with hers gave a little squeeze.

Booth didn't know how to describe his underlying feelings of anxiousness. Remnants of last night's nightmare still hovered over him like a black cloud and every now and again he would need to physically shake himself back into reality. Bones was here, she was safe beside him where she should always be. He should have known that Bones would pick up on his mood and he sought to reassure her.

"It's nothing. I just hate these serial killer cases." And dam it, if it wasn't that seventh grave, the empty one that taunted him.

"It's a perfectly natural reaction." She said logically. "But we will catch him, we always do." She added confidently.

"Yeah, we do." He agreed. Which got him thinking about other things. "Hey Bones, I think once this case is over we should come clean."

"Come clean? I wasn't aware we were dirty."

He chuckled, some of his earlier tension leaving him. "You know. Come clean…about this." He lifted his hand that was laced with hers. "about us."

"Oh" She said realizing that he was not being literal. "You want to tell everybody we are having a sexual relationship."

Booth blushed a little uncomfortable with her clinical verbiage of what he would call the most satisfying relationship he has ever had. But this was Bones. "Well yeah. I mean I hate lying to our friends…sneaking around like teenagers that have been out past curfew. Don't you?"

"Well yes, Booth. You know I am not a very good liar. You were the one that wanted to keep our relationship a secret."

"Just until we could prove our success rate as partners was not compromised by our relationship so they couldn't break us apart. But with this case…since Cullen has personally involved himself with it…well when we do solve it…he should have no qualms over allowing us to stay together. I mean it's not like we haven't solved every case that was given to us since we came back right?"

"That is true." She mused. "However, being that I like to be prepared for every possible outcome, I do have a contingency plan." Brennan informed him. "Just in case."

"Contingency plan?" He questioned, glancing at her.

She could have kicked herself for saying anything about it. Booth didn't need to know of her alternate plans…well not yet anyway. How could she tell him that she had no intention of continuing her relationship with the FBI if he wasn't part of it. It would make him feel guilty and she couldn't lay that at his feet. Not unless there was a reason to.

"Never mind." She said instead. "We're here." Brennan pointed to the large brick colonial mansion separated from the street by a tall wrought iron gate.

Booth let out a low whistle from between his teeth as he took in the sight of the large dwelling before him. "Looks like I chose the wrong government profession. Would you look at this place?"

"Don't be ridiculous Booth. You chose the absolute right profession for you." Brennan said stepping out of the SUV. "His government paycheck would not cover this, by the way. I would place an educated guess that much of his wealth comes from an inheritance or well placed investments. Speaking of inheritance…who benefits from the Judge's death?"

"His kids." Booth said he came up beside her, fitting his hand at the usual place against the small of her back. "I have a meeting with them later. They don't know yet. I have to tell them."

"I'm sorry Booth. I know you hate that part of your job."

Booth shrugged. "Catching the bad guys makes up for it."

The buzzing of lawnmowers and barking of dogs seemed to be the only noises disturbing the quiet neighborhood and the only clue that anything was amiss were the bevy of government issue vehicles that took up every inch of Judge Simpson's circular drive.

When Booth and Brennan entered the opulent home of Judge Simpson and his wife, a whole FBI team were already there scouring the mansion for any signs of foul play or motive for the judge and his wife's untimely demise.

"The place looks clean. No sign of forced entry or a struggle anywhere and the security system hasn't been breached in anyway." One of the techs informed the duo as they made their way past the entry way foyer.

"Thanks. We'll just take another look around." Booth told him. These guys were good, Booth was confident of that but he also knew they would be looking for different things than he and Bones would be looking for.

They found what they were looking for in the Judge's office. Booth glanced around the dark room taking note of the extensive library of law books while Brennan secretly envied the dark mahogany desk and the brown leather sofa.

Brennan moved towards the desk watching the reflection of a small circular light blinking on the wood. Edging closer, she realized that the computer was on.

"Booth." She called out to him. "The computer is on."

Booth turned to her just as she was about to press the button to turn the computer monitor on.

"Bones! NO!" He called out to her as he ran and tackled her to the ground his body covering hers, bracing for an explosion. It was only until he realized none was forthcoming did he lift up his head to stare into the very surprised face of Bones. Actually, she was looking at him like he had gone crazy.

"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?" He asked as he helped her stand up.

"I'll live." She mumbled trying to smooth out the creases in her blouse before turning angrily to him. "What the hell did you do that for?"

Booth, who was still recovering from his initial panic, answered back just as angrily. "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch any electronic equipment at a crime scene? It could have been rigged to explode for all you knew."

"That's a completely illogical assumption Booth. We have had no evidence so far that even suggests the use of explosives. Besides, there have been agents all over this place before we even got here. I am sure if there were any explosive devices they would have already been discovered."

"Now, who is making assumptions?" He asked frustrated. "With all the agents in here, you were the one that discovered the computer was on. What does that tell you?"

"That I am extremely observant." She answered matter of factly.

One of the agents, who had heard the commotion when Booth and Brennan hit the floor came running in.

"Is everything okay in here? I thought I heard a crash."

Yeah genius, Booth thought in his head. "We're fine." He said out loud "but you might want to have one the IT guys check out the computer. It has been on for who knows how long."

The agent took at look at the screen. "It's password protected." He said with a frown after hitting some keystrokes. "We'll take it with us and see if we can hack into it and find anything on the hard drive."

"Actually, I'd feel much better if Angela took a look at it." Brennan told Booth.

Booth was inclined to agree , all things considering. "Okay, Agent. You heard my partner. Pack it up and deliver it to the Jeffersonian."

"But sir." The young agent started to argue.

"Are you questioning me, agent?"

"Uh…no sir. Not at all. Jeffersonian. Right." He stammered nervously before quitting the room.

Brennan sidled over to Booth and whispered huskily in his ear. "I don't know if I am appalled or switched on by your intimidating use of your authority."

"That's turned on Bones." He stated automatically before a slight pink hue tinged his cheeks when he realized what exactly she was saying.

BBBBB

Booth dropped Bones of at the Jeffersonian before he headed to the Hoover building where Judge Simpson's adult children would be waiting for him. Bones had been correct, he hated this part of his job but integrity dictated that he couldn't fend it off to someone else. However, he had been surprised that Cullen hadn't intervened to tell them personally.

Upon first glance at Caroline and Andrew Simpson, Booth realized several things; the first being that these two did not have a close relationship at all. Caroline Simpson, an assistant DA in New York, sat with her legs crossed away from her brother, hands clasped tensely in her lap. Andrew Simpson, a detective with the Baltimore PD, on the other hand sat ram rod straight; his arms resting stiffly on the sides of the chair. The second item of interest that Booth noted was they did not look surprised to be there.

"Thank you for getting here so quickly." Booth stated, dropping the case file on his desk.

"One doesn't usually ignore a request from the F.B.I." Caroline Simpson stated, pushing her long blonde hair away from her face.

"Well, there is that." Booth agreed with a tight smile.

"It's obvious we weren't summoned here for anything good." Andrew prodded.

Booth lost his smile and looked at the two of them directly. "No. I am sorry to have to inform you that your parents were found murdered."

Caroline Simpson covered a shocked gasp with her hand while Andrew Simpson showed virtually no reaction at all with the exception of a muscle ticking in his jaw.

"What happened?" The brother asked.

"The case is under investigation so obviously I can't tell you much. It seems that the actual murder occurred about 6 months ago."

"That's impossible." Caroline said leaning forward in her chair.

"Ma'am?" Booth questioned.

"They went to Europe. I got emails. My mother…she has…she had" she amended painfully with a sad smile. "She had terminal cancer. She had always wanted to do a tour of Europe so my father booked a trip for them to go before…" her voice trailed off painfully.

Booth handed her the box of tissues he always kept on his desk for this type of situation. He noticed the brother start to reach out to his sister in compassion but his hand stopped midway. Okay, so this guy wasn't completely unemotional, Booth thought.

"I'm sorry Ms. Simpson but there must be some mistake. Our forensic team is the best and there is no way they could have misjudged time of death. Do you still have these emails?"

"I may have deleted them. I'll have to check."

Booth turned to Andrew, who up until now hadn't said much. Booth's gut said something was not entirely right. There was something really deep going on here and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"Mr. Simpson. Do you know of anyone that would want to murder your parents?"

"My father was a federal judge, Agent Booth. I am sure he made many enemies over the years. Why don't you check his criminal case files?"

"We have people working that angle already. I was hoping maybe you could give me something I wont be able to find in those files." Booth felt his patience with this guy steadily slipping away.

"I have not seen nor spoken with my father since I left home when I was 18. I wouldn't know a damn thing."

Bingo! Booth thought. There is something here. "Did you have a falling out?"

Andrew Simpson's face twisted into a pained grimace before retreating back to his former stoic expression. "Let's just say that despite the Judge Simpson everyone else saw, living with him wasn't the easiest thing in the world. So I left. Now if you are going to ask me if I had reason enough to kill him? Well maybe I did but that doesn't mean I would kill my mother too."

"You don't mean that, Andrew." Caroline finally spoke directly to her brother. Her eyes looked haunted. "He didn't mean that Agent Booth." She pleaded.

"Yes, I did. You know I did. But it doesn't matter. I didn't kill him. No matter what twisted things he had done over the years, I didn't kill him. That's why I left…so I wouldn't be tempted."

Booth contemplated this and mulled it over in his mind for a few moments. He couldn't put his finger on it but he believed him. Hadn't he, himself thought about what he wanted to do to his own father for the abuse he subjected him to? But Booth knew those were just musings. He was too honorable to ever actually do it. He had a deep sense that this Andrew Simpson…this cop was the same way. Besides it wouldn't explain the other dead bodies.

After a few more questions, he let them go with the knowledge that he may need to bring them in for further questioning. He also made Caroline Simpson promise to show him her emails. Maybe Angela would be able to find something they could use.


	6. Chapter 6

Ignorant of the new case handed to the team, Dr. Lance Sweets was resigned to offer whatever information he could get on the Deborah Wallace murder. The case file sat open on his desk, the notes from the file scattered haphazardly on his desk. The crime photos and the mock-ups that Angela created, however, lay face down; the images too closely resembling Dr. Brennan for him to be comfortable with them staring back at him.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, reaching for his decaf tea while simultaneously his eyes scanned the documents before him. He didn't know what was more disconcerting; the murder itself or the obvious mental instability of the victim. Here was a woman who for all intents and purposes deliberately tried to mirror Dr. Brennan's life to the point where it manifested itself as the most extreme case of obsession Lance had ever seen. And after he began working with Booth and Brennan, he had seen quite a lot.

Originally assigned to Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan as their therapist after Agent Booth had arrested Max Keenan, Dr. Brennan's very charming albeit very criminal father, Dr Lance Sweets had become an integral part of their crime solving team. In fact, if an outsider had a chance to witness the interpersonal communication between all of them, one could even say they formed a family dynamic.

Somewhere in the few years, Dr. Sweets had been seeing Booth and Brennan on a regular basis the line between therapist and friend became very blurred and they now existed within a gray area of the two. He had gained their trust and in turn they accepted him as part of their group. There was no way he could let them down now.

It was extremely difficult for him to come up with a profile of a murderer based on one murder and the victim he chose, but Lance was going to try. Instead of lamenting over the information he did not have, he chose to think like a squint and focus on the facts he did have. They weren't much.

Fact: The victim looked exactly like Dr. Temperance Brennan which could signify greatly in the choosing of the victim; something Lance did not want to think about quite yet.

Fact: The victim was incapacitated with a paralytic drug prior or during her capture.

Fact: She was brutally attacked, slashed, tortured and slashed again prior to being dumped into a dumpster like garbage.

All of these facts were starting to paint a picture and not unlike a jigsaw puzzle, there were many pieces missing. Lance was sure something significant was escaping him. Turning on his laptop, he looked up information on the pear of anguish device. He knew somehow that this method of torture was not random but specifically chosen..but why.

After reading the information on-line, Lance visibly paled, his mouth gaped open in shock as those jigsaw puzzle pieces clicked into place. Not bothering to turn off his computer, he quickly got up sending his chair flying backwards and scooped up the pages on his desk, shoving them into the beige file folder before running out the door with it tucked under his arm.

He came to a quick halt in front of Booth's empty office.

"Where's agent Booth?" Lance asked the secretary that sat outside of Booths' office while leaning over, his hands resting on his knees to catch his breath.

"I think he went to the diner." She answered somewhat amused at seeing the usually collected psychologist so …well un-collected.

"How long ago?"

She shrugged. "10 minutes at the most."

Without bothering with his usual manners and saying "thank you", Lance ran for the elevators to take him outside.

Booth sat at the counter of the diner, drinking his coffee and scanning the newspaper while he waited for his and Bones' order to be prepared for take-out. Considering the current case, he knew she wouldn't be leaving the lab anytime soon and she had the tendency to forget little things like eating while she was working.

He heard a "thunk" on the space of the counter next to him as a few paper slid out of the folder that was dropped there, skidded his way. He recognized his own catholic school penmanship and turned to the wheezing figure of Sweets beside him.

"Hey kid, you forget your inhaler?" Booth smirked and watched as Sweets grabbed a half empty glass of water from the counter and brought it to him mouth. "Hey, hey." Booth grabbed the glass from him. "Don't drink that! You don't know what cooties could be all over it."

Sweets mutely nodded his head. "Yeah" he panted. "Right." –when Sweets felt sure he got his breath back he gave Booth an odd look. "_Cooties_, Agent Booth?"

Booth grinned as his face heated a bit. "Hey, I have a nine year old son…so what has your diapers all in a twist this afternoon?"

"I believe the proper term is…" Sweets noticed Booth's roguish smirk." Oh. Ha ha Agent Booth …very funny." Sweets expression sobered quickly when he looked at the file that lay between them. "But seriously, Booth. I've been doing some work on the Deborah Wallace case and…"

Booth waved him off. "It's going to have to wait Sweets. We got a new high profile case tossed in our lap just last night."

Sweets forged ahead anyway. "Okay and that's fine but I think you would want to know considering your relationship with Dr Brennan…"

Booth nearly fell off the stool. He thought they had been so good at keeping their relationship a secret. "Okay, Sweets, who told you? Who outed us? Was it Bones because I just can't believe…"

"I just meant because of your partner…" Sweet eyes widened in realization of what exactly Booth had just inadvertently revealed to him. "Oh, wow! I mean this is just so….I _knew_ it!" He hit the palm of his hand on the counter and winced on the impact. "You and Dr. Brennan…I have so many questions"

Booth immediately realized his mistake and backtracked. "Not a word…you got that Sweets. _No one_ can know."

"But…" At Booth's forceful glare he gave up. "Fine. No one will hear about it from me."

"No one will hear what from you?" Hodgins asked inquisitively as he sat down next to Sweets. He had just come in to pick up Angela's lunch when he spotted the two conversing secretively. Always one to feel out any possible conspiracy or hidden secret agenda, he jumped right in.

"Booth and Dr Brennan are sleeping together." Sweets blurted out.

"God Damnit Sweets! I said not one word." Booth exploded.

"Dude! You and Dr. B? Seriously? Way to go man. About freakin' time." Hodgins was thoroughly elated. "Wait a minute? Sweets knows before Angela? This is _so_ not good."

Booth just buried his head in his arms wanting to hit the rewind button. All he wanted to do was pick up lunch. What the hell happened?

XXXXX

Brennan straightened herself up from her bent position over the dead body before her. Holding her hands to her hips, she stretched backwards only to feel several joints crack in her lower lumbar area. She heard Booth's mildly scolding voice in her head telling her it was time to take a well deserved break; that the bones weren't going anywhere.

Deciding to listen to that voice; after all she had been at it since getting back from the Simpson mansion with only a cup of coffee and a protein bar early in the morning for fuel, she found herself outside Angela's office watching her best friend work meticulously at her computer.

Angela felt eyes on her and looked up. She smiled and waved Brennan in.

"Hey Bren. What are you doing over in this neck of the woods?"

"Ange, this is very clearly an…oh…that's a colloquialism. You are asking me why I have come to visit you."

"Wow, Bren. You're improving. I didn't even have to explain that to you…So…what does bring you over here?"

"I found myself in need of a stretch break. I was experiencing some rather painful stiffness in my lower lumbar region." Brennan wandered over to Angela's computer where there was an image displayed of one of the murder victims. "Is this one of the victims from the grave site?"

"Yes. I am trying to figure out what caused these puncture marks on the back of his body…yuck." Angela started tapping furiously on the keyboard. "I just inputting the diameter of the marks and the length and width in between each wound and the computer will sort out the variables and come up with a possible weapon."

"How many puncture wounds were there that you had to coordinate?" Brennan was curious how long her pregnant friend had been at this. From what she saw on the computer monitor, there were quite a lot of holes in the victim.

"Don't ask…but the odd thing is all the punctures were evenly spaced." She hit the enter button. "Walla! Now we wait."

"What are all these?" Brennan asked pointing at the multitude of catalogues that seemed to cover every inch of Angela's office couch.

Angela flushed guiltily, moving swiftly to clear up the mess. "Oh those. I was just trying to get ideas for the nursery."

Brennan picked up one of the catalogues and began to thumb through it as she sat down. "Have you found anything?"

Angela sat down next to her friend in a huff, disappointment all over her face. "No. Everything is just so generic, you know. If I see another Winnie the Pooh or Noah's Ark theme, I just may explode."

"I see what you mean." She said handed over the catalogue to Angela. "The color schemes are all wrong as well. Do you know infants can't even see pastels? Their eyes can only register black, white and red."

"Yeah well I am not designing my baby's room like some 80's bachelor pad." She went back to gathering the booklets. "How do you know about this stuff anyway?"

"When I was thinking about being artificially inseminated, I did some research."

Angela gave her closest friend a look the mixed sympathy and dismay. "Oh, Bren. I am _so _sorry."

Brennan look at Angela, thoroughly confused. "Whatever for?"

"It wasn't so long ago that you wanted to be a mom and here I go shoving my pregnancy in your face."

"Ange, you are not 'shoving' anything although I am unclear what you mean by that. I am truly happy for you."

"But still…"

Angela was very clearly upset, near tears judging by her stilted pacing and Bren knew a lot of it had to do with the additional hormones coursing through her body. Still, she knew of one thing that would brighten her friend's mood. Booth was going to be so mad at her.

"Booth and I are involved in a sexual relationship." Brennan blurted out.

Angela stopped mid stride. "C'mon Bren. Don't tease me like that." Her smile was unsure, not able to decide whether Brennan was telling the truth or if she was kidding. Brennan never kidded, not really.

"I'm not joking Angela."

And just like that, the catalogues that Angela had been clutching a moment ago dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

"Oh my God, sweetie! You're telling the truth aren't you?" Angela covered her mouth with her hands to keep herself from letting out a shriek of joy.

"I just told you I was." Brennan wrinkled her brows in confusion. "Well, maybe I didn't phrase it in that precise way but…"

"No I get it…I _totally_ get it." She rolled her eyes but couldn't wipe the silly grin off her face "And apparently you get it too." She winked. "I want to know everything…and don't skip the good parts."

XXXXX

"One Cobb salad and one cheeseburger with double fries." The waitress said as put a plain paper bag on the counter in front of Booth. The grease from the burger and fries were already starting to seep through the bag.

"And that's my cue to go, guys." Booth told his friends, wanting desperately to leave before he was tricked into telling them anything else. He gave them a mock salute before he went out the door.

Sweets blinked…twice. What the hell happened? He got so sidetracked with Booth's unwitting confession, he had completely blanked on the real reason he tracked Booth down in the first place. Without giving any explanation to Hodgins, he gathered up the file once again and chased after Booth.

"Booth! Wait up."

Booth saw Sweets running over to him just has he had unlocked the door to his SUV. He gave an eye roll to the heavens and turned to the psychologist.

"What is it Sweets? And hurry it up or my bun is going to get soggy and that will make me very cranky."

"About the Deborah Wallace case…"

"I thought I told you to put that on the back burner." Booth opened his door and tossed the bag of food in the back.

"I can't in good conscience do that, Booth." Sweets looked at his friend nervously. In light of what he just found out, Booth would not take this well at all…not that he would take any threat against any one of them well…but now it was personal…very personal.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because Dr. Brennan is in danger." Sweets blurted out bracing for Booth's reaction. He didn't mean to say it like that. He meant to do it with more finesse or more explanation of how he came to that conclusion but Booth was rushing him because of his stupid cheeseburger.

Booth simultaneously clenched his jaw and flexed his fist. There was no humor in him now. Those six words sucked it right out of him. "Get in." He said, for truthfully he didn't know if he could get his mind to function enough to say anything more.

"But my car…" Sweets motioned down the block to where his car was parked.

"Just get in the damn car!"

He tried to calm his tense breathing as he waiting for Sweets to get in the vehicle. Once he hopped in, Booth took off without waiting for Sweets to buckle himself in.

"Now. I want you to tell me exactly how you came to this conclusion." Booth spoke as calmly as he could, through gritted to keep from shouting.


	7. Chapter 7

Sweets began rifling through the folder for his notes while simultaneously trying to buckle in his seat belt. Booth in the state he was now in made him nervous. He should have never blurted the news out that way.

"Forget the notes Sweets. Just _tell_ me." Booth glanced at him as he drove at a mad pace to the Jeffersonian.

Sweets sighed. "Fine but first I want to ask you a question."

"Are you going to get all shrinky on me? Cause I have to tell you, after what you just hit me with now is not the time." Booth clenched his hands on the steering wheel, bracing himself for the proverbial bomb to drop.

"No. I'm not going to get all "shrinky" Booth. I just wanted to know how many people are aware of Dr. Brennan's knowledge of martial arts."

"Seriously? You tell me that my girlfriend is in danger and you're asking about _that_?" Booth spotted the silly grin that Sweets couldn't hide. "What? What's so funny?"

Sweets shook his head trying for a more somber expression. "I'm sorry. It's just hearing you refer to Dr. Brennan as you're girlfriend, it's a real head trip. And ...well it's...I don't know...just so _high school_."

"You would know." Booth responded caustically under his breath, losing all patience. Bones could be in danger and Sweets was taking pot shots at him over calling Bones his girlfriend? "Okay fine." He decided to respond to the original question, wanted to get the conversation back on track. "Bones's publisher decided to add that she was accomplished in martial arts to her biographical blurb. She thought it would be a "fun fact" for readers to know, not that Bones found it fun at all...so yeah...I guess you could say it's pretty much public knowledge...Is this really relevant?"

Sweets gulped. "It's actually really relevant. The murderer used a paralyzing drug on the victim, correct?"

"Yeah...so?"

"So. He meant to incapacitate her so she couldn't fight back. He may have known of Dr. Brennan's knowledge of self defense and thinking the victim was in fact Dr. Brennan, used the drug to ensure he could overtake her easily."

"Okay but that still does not prove your theory that it was Bones, he was after. It's also possible he could have intended that with any victim." Booth was reaching and he knew it. Not wanting Sweets to be right but he knew the psychologist was not finished.

"No, it doesn't but it just cinches what I already know. I also did some research on the torture device used."

"Yeah the fruit of angst or whatever." If possible, Booth tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his mind's eye bringing forth the gruesome image of Deborah Wallace's mangled body.

"Pear of Anguish" Sweets corrected. He searched his mind for a way to describe his findings in a way that Booth would ultimately understand. He couldn't throw out the psychological terms that he was most comfortable with using...it would just escalate Booth's tension, which had seemed to already hit the critical point. "In medieval times that particular torture was reserved for witches, liars and blasphemers. I believe that when Deborah Wallace was originally taken, he thought he had Dr. Brennan but upon closer inspection, he realized his mistake and used on her the punishment that fit her "crime" so to speak...that crime being to alter her image to appear as someone she was not..a liar or blasphemer...depending on how he views Dr. Brennan. The postmortem stabbings to her face indicate the killers intense anger towards Miss Wallace...anger that the face wasn't real."

Booth blew out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "So you think that based upon this...Bones was the intended target."

Sweets didn't hesitate. "I do."

"Do you think he intended to kill her?"

"That I can't tell you...I don't know...maybe...or maybe he had some other purpose in mind. I can tell you this person is a very sick individual. Not many people happen to have medieval torture devices laying around and with the intent to use them."

"How sure are you about all of this?"

"Am I sure by Dr. Brennan's standards?...No. Psychological analysis is not an exact science, Booth. But I am confident enough in my interpretation of the facts to worry for Dr. Brennan's safety. I would rather say something and be wrong than not say something and be right."

XXXXX

She was so heartbreakingly beautiful, Booth thought as he watched Brennan carefully examine the bones on the table. Not for the first time, he was bewitched by how her mind worked...analyzing, processing and putting the pieces together to discover an exact truth. It is what made what he had to tell her...what he had to do...all the more difficult. But never the less, it had to be done. There was no way he could take a chance, no matter how small, with her life.

Brennan wasn't aware Booth was there until she heard him clear his throat. She looked up with a smile that quickly faded when she saw the expression on his face. He was clenching his jaw so tightly, she could almost hear his teeth grating together. His hands were jammed in his pockets but she almost had a sense that instead of the relaxed stance he was trying for, his fists were clenched underneath the fabric of his clothes.

"What is it Booth?" She asked.

"We need to talk." He looked glanced around him noticing the amount of Jeffersonian employees in the vicinity. "Somewhere private." he added quietly.

"Of course. Let's go to my office." Brennan slipped off her laytex gloves and followed Booth to her office. Something was definitely wrong. Booth moved with a restlessness in him she hadn't seen in a long time. Normally she wasn't one to make assumptions or come to conclusions without having factual evidence as proof but couldn't help but leap to the supposition that somehow Booth found out she told Angela the truth about their relationship.

When they got to her office, he turned to her not knowing how to broach the subject.

"Booth if this is about me telling Angela about us...I'm sorry. She was just so sad...it just popped out of my mouth. I only wanted to make her happy." Brennan said in a rush hoping to diffuse the situation.

Booth shook his head confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Isn't that why you're angry...why you wanted to talk?" Now she wasn't so sure she came to the right conclusion.

"No, but if it's any consolation, Sweets and Hodgins know as well. Purely by accident..I have to add." He allowed only the barest hint of a sad smile.

"Oh...then it must be about the case." She brightened a little now that she knew he wasn't angry at her. It barely even registered that he told her that Hodgins and Sweets also knew about them.

"In a manner of speaking. It concerns the Deborah Wallace case."

"But I thought we weren't working on that right now."

"We're not...we weren't...but now..."

"What about Cullen?He told us not to work that case."

"Screw Cullen!" Booth said raking his hand through his hair before settling it back down on his hip.

Brennan was shocked. "Booth!"

"Aw hell Bones. You're in danger" He said frustrated that he didn't know how to phrase it properly...that he was near impotent with fear for her safety. Sure, Sweets only had a theory but it was logical enough for it to be believable.

Booth went on to explain what Sweets had told him. Brennan didn't interrupt him for once as she listened.

"So in light of all of that." Booth went on. "I want to assign you protective detail when I'm not with you."

"I agree"

"Now don't argue with me Bones. I know you're going to say it's a waste of government resources and dismiss what Sweets says as a lot of psychological mumbo jumbo... "

Brennan placed a hand on his sleeve. "Booth...I said I think you're right."

"But I am not playing games with your life...wait. Did you just agree?" Booth finally heard what she had been trying to say. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He searched her face for any sign that her expression didn't match her words but found none.

"Yes. Although I am hesitant to use the term "gut feeling", I must admit that I have been having an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach about the whole thing and that maybe some extra protection may be warranted although I am confident that should the need arise, I am more than capable of defending myself."

A genuine smile spread over Booth's features. "Bones, do you realize you just described what a gut feeling feels like?"

Before she could answer him, there was an impatient knock on the door. Before waiting for anyone to answer Angela walked in holding a paper in one hand and covering her eyes with the other.

"Okay I don't want to interrupt any hanky panky but I have some information that you may want to see."

"Angela. You're not interrupting anything." Brennan said wryly.

Angela uncovered her eyes and smiled. "And why not?" She shook her head. "Never mind." She handed the paper to Booth. "I thought you should see this."

Booth eyed the paper with speculation. "Just what am I looking at here?"

"This is what was used on one of the murder victims. I input the information on the wounds to find out what could have caused the injuries to his body and this came up as a 100% match. It was the only one." Angela went on to explain.

"Okay. Now what exactly is it?"

Brennan had paled considerably as she realized just what exactly it was and suddenly she was very afraid. "Booth, that's a Judas Chair or more commonly known as The Chair of Torture." To further clarify so there was no mistaking her meaning behind her growing dread, she added quietly - "a medival torture device."

The pair looked at eachother utterly horrified. Not one for beleiving in coincidences, Booth found it hard to swallow past the growing lump in his throat as his mind worked furiously putting the pieces together and he didn't like the way they added up. Everything just became a whole lot more complicated.

"I have to go find Sweets. We need to talk to Cullen. Stay here. Do not move" Booth said in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth as fast as he thought them leaving both Angela and Brennan momentarily stunned. He was halfway out the door when he turned around and stalked back in the office, grabbing Brennan by the wrist.

"On second thought, you're coming with me. I don't want you out of my sight." he said pulling her with him. He knew he was being irrational and not more than a little paranoid, after all, the lab was secure but he wasn't taking any chances.

"Will one of you please tell me what's going on?" Angela shouted after them.

"Later Angela." Brennan called back to her friend as she kept up with Booth's pace.

They didn't have to do far to find Sweets who had in fact was coming to find them.

"I just spoke to Dr. Saroyan about this new case..." He started after nearly bumping into them in the hallway. "I fear that given the methods..."

Booth cut him off knowing exactly what the psychologist was getting at. "Already made the connection Sweets. Come with us. We're going to talk to Cullen."

XXXXX

Cullen dropped the case file on hs desk and looked at the three people in front of him shaking his head in sympathy.

"I'm sorry. I highy respect the opinions of all three of you but without concrete evidence of a threat against Dr. Brennan, a letter...something, I cannot authorize the manpower needed for protective detail. We are just, simply put, shorthanded at the moment and do not have the resources."

Booth was aghast. He thought for sure Cullen would make the connection as easily as they all had. "Not even with a dead body that looks exactly like Dr. Brennan?" he seethed.

Cullen sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his responsibilities."Look, I agree with your conclusion that these two cases may be related and give you permission to work both of them simultaneously in the light of your recent findings but my decision remains the same. Now, if Dr. Brennan would like to arrange for private protection using her own resources, that is her perogative and it is what I would suggest."

Brennan had no issue with Cullen's decison. She received no direct and all they had to state to the contrary was a psychological analysis and a "gut feeling", neither of which were in anyway conclusive. Booth, however, took great exception to the Director's decision.

"Fine. But if any thing happens to her...anything at all...I'll..."

Brennan placed a restraining hand on Booth's arm, trying desperately to stop him from saying something he would regret and could very well cost him his job.

"You'll _what_, Agent Booth?" Cullen's voice was a warning.

"Never mind." Booth conceded, backing down and walking out of Cullen's office trying to reel in his desire to kick a trash can or punch a hole in the wall.

"This is just bullshit." He exclaimed when they were far enough from Cullen's office.

"Booth it's okay." Brennan tried to soothe him by rubbing her hadn up and down his back. "I'll call my publisher. There's an agency they use when the authors have public appearances. I can arrange something with them."

"That's an excellent solution, Dr. Brennan." Sweets said looking at Booth hoping he would agree.

"No it's not...I don't trust those types of guys. I've seen them fail too many times. You'll just have to be with me at all times Bones."

"Booth...you know that's impractical. While we do work together, there are aspects of our jobs that we need to do seperately."

Booth saw the logic in her argument but didn't like it. He sighed. "Fine but if we're going to go this route, I don't want them to assign just any schmuck to you. I want to interview them first to make sure they suit my standards."

A ghost of a smile played over Brennan's lips. "Deal." She said feeling immediately sorry for the guards that would be sent her way to pass under Booth's scrutiny.


End file.
